Endings & Beginnings
by Belle Walker
Summary: Post-ep for Homebodies. Originally written 2003.
1. Endings

Just when Grissom thought the night couldn't get any worse, he was proved wrong.

Brass appeared in the doorway. "Get your kit," he grunted, and then disappeared down the hallway.

That could only mean one thing: another crime, and another victim.

With a sad sigh, Grissom retrieved his field kit and exited his office.

* * *

People mingled in the driveway, mourning the young figure laying on the cold, damp ground.

Family...friends...neighbors...police officers...and crime scene analysts.

Grissom's gaze settled on one face in particular.

Sara met his eyes, staring straight back at him for a brief moment.

A strange chill coursed through his body as he took in the empty devastation in her eyes.

Sara broke the gaze and looked down, her expression never changing. She ducked under the yellow crime scene tape, walking dejectedly past Captain Brass to find refuge in one of the Crime Lab's vehicles.

Only then did she allow herself to cry.

Grissom circled the body of Susanna Kirkwood, coming to a stop and kneeling by her head. With a clenched jaw, he snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and opened his kit.

* * *

He had intended to drive home, but somehow found himself on a road that led elsewhere.

Before it even registered fully in his mind, Grissom was searching the tall apartment building for that one specific window.

_Three floors up...fourth window from the left._

A subtle light filtered through the blinds, softly illuminating the large glass square.

_She's still awake._

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Grissom considered his options.

One, he could put the car back in gear and go home as he originally planned.

Two, he could get out of the car and walk to that apartment door.

Remembering Sara's darkly hollow expression, he chose the latter.

Butterflies in his stomach fluttered up around his heart as he shut off the engine and stepped out.

The light evening mist had turned into a mild drizzle, and Grissom shook the water droplets off his jacket as he made the trek up the three flights of stairs.

The scuffed brown door marked "304" seemed to beckon to him as he slowly approached.

As Grissom raised his hand to knock, he briefly wondered if he was about to make a big mistake.

_No,_ his heart told his head. _The only mistake would be leaving._

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

Several seconds passed, then he heard the faint click of a tumbler lock opening.

Then the rattle of the chain on the slide-bolt.

And then another tumbler lock.

Finally the door opened to reveal a very tear-streaked face.

"Hey," Grissom said softly.

"Hi," Sara whispered back.

Grissom leaned against the door frame, asking gently, "You okay?"

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Sara just shook her head, looking down at the cracks in the floor by Grissom's feet.

Sara's eyes jerked back up to meet his as Grissom's warm fingers tenderly brushed a few tears off her cheek. She expected him to pull away and immediately apologize for touching her.

To her surprise, the physical contact remained, and an apology was never uttered.

Both of his hands were now cradling her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks.

Sara's own hands came up slowly to cover his, and Grissom was momentarily afraid Sara meant to remove his hands from her face.

His fears were laid to rest when she made no move to reject his touch.

Instead, her fingers trailed down his wrists, dropping away from his sleeves and coming to grasp at the front lapels of his jacket.

Sara tugged lightly on the wet nylon, silently prompting Grissom to step closer.

Grissom willingly obliged, leaning in and sweetly kissing Sara's trembling lower lip.

Drawing a ragged breath, Sara parted her lips, allowing Grissom to deepen the kiss.

And deepen it, he did; wrapping his arms around her and laying his heart on the line.

The kiss broke off eventually, and Grissom rested his forehead against Sara's, guiltily finding comfort in the unique scent of her hair. _Sara needs comforting more than you,_ he chided himself. _She hurts for all the victims, but she became this girl's friend. Even though it was a short-lived friendship, Sara's pain isn't any less._

"You did everything you could, Sara," Grissom told her, gently rubbing her slender back. "You helped her...but she needed to help herself too."

Sara's arms slid around his waist as she laid her cheek against his chest. The soft cotton of his shirt was warm on her skin where his jacket was open. "If she had just written down that creep's lineup number, we could have locked him up and Susanna would still be alive."

Grissom had no answer to that. He pulled Sara closer and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Me too." Sara muffled a sniffle, and softly asked, "Grissom?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you...want to come in?"

"Do you _want_me to come in?" Grissom responded unsurely, a sudden shyness settling over him.

Sara pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. She saw pain, compassion, and a faint glimmer of hope reflected in his baby blue irises.

With a small but genuine smile, she took his hand, pulling him into her apartment.

_Well...maybe bad days _**_can_**_ have good endings,_ Grissom thought with a smile as he shut the door behind him.


	2. Beginnings

His subconscious told him he was being watched.

It also told him there was a body in his arms, pressed warmly and comfortably against his chest and torso.

Grissom opened his eyes, not completely surprised to find a pair of soft brown eyes gazing back at him.

"Good morning," he said softly, almost afraid to speak any louder than a whisper. "Or should I say, good afternoon?"

Sara didn't reply immediately, content as she was to just lay there staring into his blue eyes. She reached a hand up, her fingers tentatively caressing the graying curls at Grissom's temple.

A hint of trepidation and fear of rejection mirrored in her eyes as she eventually responded, "Doesn't really matter which, does it? So long as we both agree that it's good?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Grissom's mouth. He allowed his thumb to lightly trace the soft outline of Sara's bottom lip.

"It's good," he confirmed, his smile brightening his eyes a bit. He linked his fingers with hers, pressing a kiss to her palm.

Her apprehension immediately quelled, Sara matched his smile with one of her own.

"It's great," Grissom continued, moving his lips to the smooth underside of her wrist. "It's wonderful." He kissed the inner portion of her arm, where it bent at the elbow.

Sara fought the urge to laugh as Grissom's manly facial hair tickled her sensitive skin.

"It's fantastic," he finished, capturing her lips in a heavenly kiss.

Sara's bedside alarm clock began chiming at that most inopportune moment.

"And it's time to get up," Grissom added with a loathsome glare for the time-telling device, vexed at its noisy intrusion.

"Stupid clock," Sara grumbled half-heartedly.

Grissom reached across her shoulder to silence the offending contraption.

"I don't want to get up today," Sara mumbled, choosing instead to burrow back under the bed covers. "Maybe tomorrow."

"I don't want to get up either," Grissom answered, tugging the airy comforter away from Sara's face. "But I also don't want Catherine sending out a search party when we don't show up for work."

Sara wrinkled her nose at the mention of their domineering blonde colleague. "Yeah, me either." She rose from the bed, wrapping the topmost blanket firmly around her body. "Well...another day, another D.B.," she remarked sadly.

Grissom rolled onto his side under the remaining bed covers, silently watching Sara shuffle toward her bathroom.

At the doorway, she turned back to face him. "It never really ends, does it?" she asked rhetorically. "Crimes just recycle themselves. We unearth the endings...only to discover that we're right back at the beginning again."

With that, Sara continued on to the bathroom, leaving Grissom to ponder the bitter truth of her insightful statement.


End file.
